a mix of truth, opinion, reason, and emotion… basically, a blog

she seemed so very graceful to me and yet so very tired. i wasn’t the first to notice her, but it was the first time that i had noticed her. she stood tiny. she stood strong. she stood worn, yet calm. her chin up, pleasant disposition, she had finished and stood still to find a moment of rest. this little dancer of 14 years stood a mere 39 inches tall and she had my attention. she was surrounded by majestic paintings, enormous sculptures and camera toting tourists, but she had my attention. i was captivated by her strength. this little dancer was just catching her breath.

she presented herself with crafted skill, a tight routine, proven procedure, graceful in motion and eloquence in movement. broken in two, with pain in her heart and bloody toes, she had completed her dance. she was 14, i was 15, you were 19, he was 25, we were 27… i’ve considered to myself whether or not 34 is too early for retirement. this little dancer is just catching her breath.

so much soreness sustained by a regard for her craft, so many aches bound tight by hope and the trust that some day she will find rest. her body broken down, her mind stronger than ever, she requires the time to straighten her shoulders and close her eyes, but remains in position, ready for the next dance. her muscles carry the memories of her training, suspension, triumph and defeat. her heart carries the gift and an unrepentant loyalty to the giver. this little dancer is just catching her breath.

we are just catching our breath…

If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked in the gut,

he’ll help you catch your breath.

Psalm 34:18 Msg

La Petite Danseuse de Quatorze Ans (“Little Dancer of Fourteen Years”) c. 1881, is a sculpture by Edgar Degas of a young dance student named Marie van Goetham.

i once had a friend ask me if i was jealous of the woman he’d chosen. he had been single for years, we’d been close, the answer was no. the women in his life, that he suspected of jealousy, were essentially mourning the moment of not being chosen. i didn’t want to be with him, but i was growing weary of singleness and becoming discouraged in the absence of my own partner.

this other fellow i know came in all casual and cool, slow in acknowledging our chemistry. we laughed, we dove into conversation, we always had a really great time. i saw his nervousness, his restraint, his curiosity, his adrenaline pumping when i was near, but i also witnessed the intoxication of his current state of comfort. i chose to let him in, give him a piece of my mind, and offer up a portion of my time. he decided to stay sedentary, watching me from the sidelines. i chose to keep on moving.

i walked through the church doors in hopes of meeting my match. casual handshakes, names exchanged, and “so glad to meet you, so very glad to meet you”. they watched me walk in, they watched me walk out, and rarely lifted their eyes to at least engage. all the printed signs spoke of a potential connection and a desire to know me, but it was taking too long… way too long. they also seemed sedentary, but they paid me no mind and didn’t even watch from the sidelines. i chose to keep on moving.

i do not hesitate to state that i have a deep desire to be chosen. it would be silly to claim otherwise. just as i’d hoped for him to be motivated by our connection enough to make a move, i desired them to be motivated by my decision to show up time & time again enough to let me in. but their hesitancy to choose has forced me to move. i continue in hope and not in desperation. i will one day find and also be found, i have no doubt. but these things take time… opportunity and action will one day align.

i think i was supposed to miss you, and at first i thought that i did. but it turns out i missed some of what surrounded you. i missed the relationships that developed, the sense of being a part of something, and the opportunity to serve with my talents in numerous ways. strangely, your absence hasn’t made much of a dent. my longing has nearly subsided and my heart is feeling quite full… i haven’t seen you in months.

i was told you’d bring my life meaning, you’d assist in my completion. you sold yourself as a savior and disappointed me deeply. i find it difficult to regret leaving you since my mind is at peace, my hope is well placed, and my security now resourced differently. i have found friendships without your assistance. i have joined forces with all sorts. and i’m perfectly content to serve strangers… i just wish i was serving you.

i’m supposed to be on the hunt for another, but being without has come to be quite comfortable. i meet people often who walked away and never turned back. i meet others that return on account of guilt or fear. but i haven’t any guilt, i haven’t any fear, if anything, i’m feeling quite free. i wanted us to need each other. i wanted us to work together and make something brilliant… you didn’t see my value.

is it so harsh for me to say i feel you’re losing your significance, your senses, your sobriety? that your system has compromised your symmetry? i fell in love with your potential, a promise without any provision or evidence. He said it was you, He intends for it to be you, but you have delayed for what seems like centuries. you’ve been reasoning and rewriting His plan… you are His first choice.

i will make my return, but i’m not in any hurry. i will partner, but i’ll take my time.

i’ve already made my choice, now i’m just delaying a little while longer.

give you some time to make your plans, give me some time to enjoy the quiet.

“Better a dry crust with peace and quiet than a house full of feasting, with strife.”

This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. John 15:12 Msg

this is the type of love that i am pondering today. the love that you dive into, knowing full well that it may not have longevity or permanence. the love that you risk by giving yourself for a brief moment in time knowing full well that this moment may be just that… a moment. the love that pushes you to open wide the gates of your heart in hopes that it may provoke another to open wide the gates of their heart. and with that risk, perhaps for that season, you may know love. you may feel what it’s like to connect with a soul. you never know. you never know where the dive will take you.

diving off of a ledge into a pool may seem risky, but there are too few options and possible consequences. you are bound by the concrete borders and it’s sink or do laps. perhaps a game or two, a little bobbing, and then a siesta on a brightly colored inner tube. you can bring a drink with you, you can have your toys, you can have your music and still keep your towel near by. but when you dive into an ocean there is a wild abandonment, a risk, a rush, a fear, a sense of wonder… you may never have to come back to shore.

what is the greater relief? that the shore is never out of site or that the concrete walls are non existent. the ocean is a road without lanes, a forest without trees, a sky without gravity. the ocean is unpredictable. the ocean is dangerous. the ocean is wild. but the ocean is still under God’s domain and our God-gifted dominion. He blesses the discovery of love through abandonment. He identifies with this kind of love. He knows not of the love that fears. He hasn’t felt the love that hesitates and retreats. perhaps, because that isn’t really love.

to love is to risk not being loved in return. to hope is to risk pain. to try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.